A Perfect Life: A Novel



BLAISE HAD THE CVS test the doctor had recommended, the following week, and she went to have the test alone. It was invasive, and there was some risk of miscarriage, but it would give them the information that the baby was genetically healthy, and if she wanted to know the sex of the baby, they could tell her that too. She told them she wanted to know, and she had three or four weeks to wait until the result. And she was nervous about it. Now that she had decided to go forward with it, she hoped everything would be all right. The baby was due on the first of October, and she had decided to tell Salima when it showed, which it didn’t yet. She was very slim and in good shape, and she was only three months pregnant. And she wanted to keep it from the network for as long as possible. She suspected they wouldn’t be thrilled, but she was going to take very little maternity leave, just as she had done with Salima. She didn’t want to take a lot of time. There were too many projects to finish, and someone else would be taking her place if she did.

And she was still adjusting to the idea of having a baby. She was somewhat in shock. She covered a story in South Africa the week after she had the CVS test, and from there she went to London and attended a royal wedding as a guest. She was back in New York ten days after she left, with lots of stories to tell Becky and Salima. She was continuing her busy life, unhampered by the pregnancy.

“You lead such a glamorous life,” Becky said, still in awe of her.

“No, she doesn’t,” Salima interjected. “She still hangs out with us.” And to prove it, they went bowling that night, and they all had fun. Salima said she deserved a handicap, and Blaise said she would probably play just as badly if she wasn’t blind.

“Yeah, just like you can’t cook,” she teased her mother. “And neither can Becky!”

“Yes, I can. I finally got the soufflé right last week.” It had become an obsession with her. Her trial by fire. A rite of initiation, and she had passed.

“Yeah, with Simon walking us through it. That’s like painting by number,” Salima said, teasing her, but she’d been impressed. And the soufflé was good.

“Well, it worked, and I did it,” Becky said victoriously. Blaise was getting to like her more and more, and so was Salima. And Blaise tried to ignore the fact that her heart gave a little flutter when Salima mentioned Simon. She knew he was still very much in touch with Salima, although he had vanished completely out of her life, except for the baby in her womb. She was going to tell Salima that Simon was the baby’s father, but no one else. And Simon, of course, when it was born. But she wanted to keep any press interest in her pregnancy as minimal as possible. And she was hoping to keep it from the network till May or June. Her doctor said she could travel till August, and sitting at a desk during her morning segment, the viewers wouldn’t have to know until she gave birth.

Blaise had plenty to keep her busy. Salima was preparing ardently for her recital on the Memorial Day weekend in May, now that the audition for Juilliard was over. Lucianna had taken her to her audition when Blaise was in London. Salima was hoping for a response by May or June. She was desperate to get into the school, located at Lincoln Center, with three students to every teacher, small classes, fabulous instructors, and dedication to handicapped students.

And Blaise had sweeps week to think of in May for the ratings, which had the whole network in an uproar twice a year. They were planning to show her interview with the king of Morocco during that time, because the producers of her show thought it was so good.

She was going over a stack of research for her new projects toward the end of April when her doctor called, and Mark put the call through to Blaise.

“Blaise McCarthy,” she said in a clipped voice, sounding distracted.

“Hi, Blaise.” It was her doctor, which brought Blaise rapidly back to earth. “I have your CVS results. Everything is perfect.” She said it quickly, to allay any worry, and Blaise heaved a sigh of relief. She hadn’t realized how anxious about it she was.

“That’s great. Thank you.”

“Do you still want to know the baby’s sex?” She checked before she told her.

“I’d like that very much,” she said with tears in her eyes. It was an important moment. Her baby was healthy. The rest was icing on the cake.